


Peter Parker: Legend of Empire State

by Popjeckdoom



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 20, College Student Peter Parker, Gen, Good Peter, He just wants to help, No pairing - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker is a criptid, Peter is a mystery among the students, Sassy Peter, The Myth, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, a legend, but they only show up for like, he is precious, he's like, heads up, i am not super familiar with daredevil as whole, outside pov, peter parkour, so much swearing, two chapters its fine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2019-12-18 16:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18253370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popjeckdoom/pseuds/Popjeckdoom
Summary: There was a dorm room, at the end of the third floor hallway on the male side of student housing, that was a mystery to all the students of Empire State. #339, Peter Parker.The dorm itself wasn’t strange. It wasn’t haunted or cursed in any way, or as far as anyone knew. The door looked like everyone else’s; a doodle of Spidey on the whiteboard, a random scratch at the bottom left corner of the door, likely from someone moving in, etc. What made this ordinary room into a legend was it’s mysterious inhabitant, whom many believed did not even exist.Peter Parker. The Criptid of Empire State.





	1. The Beginning of the Legend

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I've something for Marvel, let alone posted it.
> 
> We'll see how this goes.
> 
> Comment some ideas for funny Criptid!Peter encounters I'm dragging this on as long as fucking possible.

There was a dorm room, at the end of the third floor hallway on the male side of student housing, that was a mystery to all the students of Empire State. #339, Peter Parker.

 

The dorm itself wasn’t strange. It wasn’t haunted or cursed in any way, or as far as anyone knew. The door looked like everyone else’s; a doodle of Spidey on the whiteboard, a random scratch at the bottom left corner of the door, likely from someone moving in, etc. What made this ordinary room into a legend was it’s mysterious inhabitant, whom many believed did not even exist.

 

Peter Parker. The Criptid of Empire State.

 

No one saw him leave or come in, sans the first day when Stacy from Bio saw him at orientation, where they were shown to all their rooms. He always knew when people were coming into a room. Peter turned in every paper on time, got perfect marks, but only showed up on days where participation was a grade. He always seemed tired, and usually had a bruise somewhere on him that was gone by the end of the day. Peter walked around in sweatpants and a T-shirt, and frequently left for weeks at a time for an internship. No one knew if that was actually the case, or what he was doing if it wasn't. They didn't really want to ask.

 

Peter Parker was also the person everyone seemed to gravitate to when they needed help. Yeah, Jason (the RA) was a cool enough guy, but Peter always seemed to know how to solve things. And if he didn’t, he’d send a text and to someone and it would be at least better by the end of the week. He’d sent Jessie to some lawyers in Hell’s Kitchen when he got into some hot water with shady debt collectors, and fixed up Daria’s microwave in about two minutes while she almost had a panic attack and thanked him profusely in the background.

 

The thing is, Peter has a lot of skills nobody should know all at once. Don’t get me wrong: Peter was a cool guy. Not usually the kind anyone would look at with suspicion.

 

Then, finals week.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Now, in Peters’ defense, everyone is a bit loopy during Finals. No one could say for sure what they saw actually happened. In fact, Peter never seemed to even know what they were talking about.  It was Wednesday: Greg had heard from Amanda who’d heard from Stacy that Peter had had two finals back to back that day. Bio, then Math. Poor dude.

 

Those that were in between the Math building and the Science building watched in awe as Peter Parker, lazy college student extraordinaire, ran faster than a track star across the small strip of grass, and then easily flipped and parkour-ed his way up the side of the Math building, and into the window of the lecture hall.

  


And that was only the beginning of the Peter Parker legend.

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

 

Jessie was so so so so fucking screwed.

 

He was an idiot for taking out loans with these guys, he’d admit. Jessie, although he was literally studying to be a fucking Physicist, was never the sharpest when it came to street smarts. He wasn’t a pushover by any means, but he compensated a bit for actual abitliy with swering, he’d fucking admit. So he’d taken a few bucks from some guy he knew from high school. And now, bada bing, bada boom, two years later, they wanted all that fucking money in full.

 

How the shit was he supposed to pull that out of his ass? Jessie was freaking out. He was a broke college student, that’s why he’d taken out the loan in the first place. He could barely afford to pay for ramen noodle dinners for the week, let alone a few thousand dollars in debts.

 

He could feel a panic attack coming on.

 

And suddenly, like the grace of god, a knock came at his door.

 

Jessie took a deep breath. He walked over as calmly as possible and opened the door only slightly, making sure to place his foot behind it just in case that fucker TJ tried to force his way in.

 

“Look, man, I don’ got the money yet--” he started, but he was swiftly interrupted by a voice that was definitely not fucking TJ, no sir.

 

“Money? Is that what you’re pacing about?” It was Peter, from next door. Thank fucking Grandma Patty. Jessie opened the door fully to reveal Parker in all his Hello-Kitty sweatpants and T-shirt glory. The T-shirt had a science pun on it, and Jessie took a moment to bask in Peter’s fucking aura of constant fake-chill. Truly, he was the hero any college student desired and deserved. “Dude, are you alright?”

 

Jessie sighed, and stepped slightly out of the way to allow Peter into the room. He didn’t need to move all that much-the guy may be taller than Jessie but he’s still a goddamn twig. He closed the door behind them, and slumped into the chair at his desk; which barely fit into the small dorm with his bed and mini-fridge. Peter took the implied invitation and sat on the bed. Jessie floundered for a moment, and Peter didn't say a word about his slightly frantic flailing. It was late, Jessie supposed. Who doesn't panic the night before a paper is due?

 

“Nah, man,” Jessie finally settled on. He explained the situation, and Peter listened intently. Peter was good like that, Jessie decided. He didn’t know the guy too well, but Peter was the kind of dude that you just couldn’t hide shit from. You wanted to tell him every sin the moment you laid eyes on his stupid fucking bambi-eyed face.

 

“..And that’s it.” Jessie sighed. “I’m just kinn’a screwed, man. Thank for listening though.” Peter looked at him, thoughtfully and seriously, before he finally stood and patted Jessie’s shoulder. He grabbed a pen and a piece of loose leaf covered in highlighter doodles from Jessie's nightstand, and began to write the words that would save Jessie's fucking life.

 

“I got a friend that can help you. And well, if they can’t, then I’ll get involved.”

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Peter had handed him an address. It was in New York City, Hell’s Kitchen. Definitely not the typ’a place Jessie would’ve pegged Peter hangin’ by. Jessie made his way out of the cab and up to the door of the old, bullet-hole ridden office building in front of him. He tapped on the door; realizing it may be a bit late for working people to be, well, in-office.

 

The door swung open suddenly, and a man in some weird fucking sunglasses stood in the doorway. “Matt Murdock. We’re closed.”

 

“Ah,” Jessie’s brain took a second to reboot. “Peter sent me? Peter Parker? Or, well,” he looked down at the paper Peter had handed him, which held the adress to this joint and the instructions Peter had left him with. “Webs, he said you call him?”

 

Matt straightened. He mumbled something about annoying spiders, which could very well be a problem in a shady place like this, and soon Jessie was not only in the possession of an odd note from his odd dorm neighbor but also the contact info and an appointment for perhaps the most interesting attorney he’d ever meet. Peter knew some people; although he didn't really seem the type. Jessie was thankful, still coming down form an anxiety high, and now _very_ curious.

 

Just what kinda criptid was Peter Parker?

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darria decides that Criptid=Fae, but we been knew.
> 
> Also, Xander gets a glance at America's Ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooly shit I am so sorry guys. I genuinely thought I had already posted this chapter and I completely forgot about it. But uhhh, I'm a dumbass, so this isn't unusual. Please forgive me D:

 

College was...an experience.

  
  


Darria could not say she was enamoured, but she did not find it distasteful. She’d made new friends, had engaging classes, and disregarding the thousands of dollars in debt she was in, it was an acceptable arrangement. Being a Classical Arts major, Darria spent classes learning about the involved and often risqué history surrounding art from Asia and Europe and Africa; drawing up rough sketches and designs for everything from murals to small, involved locket-pieces. It was an invigorating challenge.

 

The real challenge came not from her classes, however, but Bea.

 

Bea was her ten-year-old laptop, bought just as she turned thirteen with four years of saved pocket-allowance. Bea was originally meant to be a gaming console, but Sims was only so stimulating. Eventually, Darria purchased a decent drawing program and a tablet, and she never turned back. But Bea was old, and concussive maintenance can only do so much to resurrect someone from death by iced mocha.

 

Bea spluttered, flashing from a twenty-page word document to a completely black screen and back. Darria rushed to save her progress, but the cursor was frozen. “No! You  _ will not _ die right now!” Darria smacked the desk beside her mouse, agitated, “I have a paper due, you  _ insolent cur! _ ”

 

Bea was unsympathetic to her plight, and with a final whine, the silver, sticker-covered laptop went dark.

 

_ “ _ You _ loiter-sack!”  _ Darria huffed. She slammed the laptop closed and snatched the plush bear off her desk. She turned in her spinny chair, away from the traitorous villain, and buried her face in the large, pink bear’s fuzzy head. Darria couldn’t bear to look at Bea after such a betrayal.

 

“....uh…” A voice came from her doorway. Darria turned her head slightly to lay eye on whoever dare intrude in her melancholy. It was Peter, from design, holding up the notes she leant him. “I came to...well, you know that.” He shuffled back and forth in place, and Darria sniffed. “Are you okay?”

 

“No,” she said, voice muffled by her pink plush. “Bea has betrayed me in my darkest hour; left me in the moonlight with naught but branches to fend off the wolves.”

 

“Your computer?” Peter was hardly phased by her dramatasism. He’d been with her when she’d lost the bet with Greg, a drama major, that forced her to speak in antiquated form. The challenge had technically ended a week ago, but she was having fun with it. He wandered over, placing the notebook he’d been carrying on her desk and picking up the traitorous cad. “I can take a look if you’d like?”

 

“Perform your witchcraft,” Darria huffed, “I see not the use. My paper is lost to the nether realm regardless.” A frown, more pronounced than before. “It was due on the morrow.”

 

“Well,” Peter blinked, “You’re fucked.”

 

“Silence.” Darria lifted a hand from the soft embrace of the plushy. “Such an impish face should dare not utter such profanity.”

 

“Did you just call me a baby, Shakespeare?”

 

* * *

  
  


Much to Darria’s surprise, Peter’s witchcraft did indeed resurrect her traitorous Bea from the brink of the nether realm. Had he not walked in, convenient and in her time of need, she would have had to be rid of the traitorous Bea and find a new vessel of computing intelligence into the written and drawn forms. How fortunate his appearance, that it was almost as if her plight had summoned him, much as Jessie’s had naught a fortnight ago. It seemed that the rumours of Peter’s fae blood were indeed true; however, most fae were tricksters. What price would Peter extract from her?

 

“Thank you, fae-witch.” She smiled in relief, happy to see the paper she’d been writing safe and sound on her now not-flickering screen. “I should expect you desire payment?”

 

Peter, casual speaker as he was, took a moment to decipher her words. “You don’t need to pay me, dude.” He shuffled side to side on his feet. “But, if you insist, I wouldn’t mind a few of those cookies that you make. Those really good double chocolate ones?”

 

Such a small request! But the fae would know suitable payment more than she. She turns on her spinnychair and pulls herself with her legs, still sitting, to her kitchenette. From there, she opens a small cupboard and retrieves the three remaining cookies. Once they were in Peter’s hand, he immediately brought them to his chest like he expected her to try and steal them from his grasp. 

 

Perhaps others had attempted to renege on their deals with Peter. Unfortunate, given that he desired so little for such extraordinary service.

 

She escorted Peter to her door, accepted her notes back, andwaved as he walked down the halls to his dorm. “Farewell, witch!”

 

“Been called worse!” he called back, and she laughed.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Steve Rogers was in his dormitory.

 

_ Captain fucking America  _ was in his dormitory. 

 

Wait, why was he in the dormitory.

 

Xander was having a heart attack. He’d stepped out into the hallway to ask Jessie for some notes (in his underwear, a Spidey-tee, and a light blue robe) only to come face to face with one of America’s oldest icons, and an actual fucking superhero.

 

The  _ very, very hot Wow-he-was-too-gay-for-this  _ man noticed him, slack jawed in the doorway to his dorm room, and smiled. “Hey, son.”

 

“..Hey.” Xander was very confused. And horny. Fuck where was a drink when you needed one? “Do you need something...sir?”

 

“Ah,” Cap blushed, “I’m looking for Peter? Peter Parker? He said his dorm was on the third floor but I’m having trouble finding it.”

 

Peter Parker was going to have Captain-fucking-America in his bedroom. Alone. Lucky guy.

 

“Uh, just down the hall, man. The end. #339.” Xander pointed at the doorway at the end, concealing the cryptid behind. “I don’t know if he’s there, though?”

 

“Thank you!” The captain said, happily, before rushing down the hall in the direction. 

 

Xander watched him leave, specifically his ass because  _ damn,  _ before deciding he really needed to get a fucking boyfriend. For the safety of others, specifically national icons and their skin-tight muscle-tees. He’d gotten back inside his room and got comfortable on his bed when he realized he still needed to get notes from Jessie, and had no idea if the Captain was still outside.

 

“Well, shit.” Why was he an introvert, again? Oh, yeah.

 

People.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for the delay!!! But while you're here, you should go check out my other stories :D.


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